


Unbroken

by ANobleCompanion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angels, Fallen Castiel, Flashbacks, Hell, M/M, Post Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of the past year, Dean has a breakdown and needs Cas to pull him through it.  </p><p>Post Season GR8</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbroken

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unbroken](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/23156) by Black Veil Brides. 



> This is based on the song "Unbroken" by Black Veil Brides. I was originally going to take a different spin on this, but a friend was craving some Comfort!Dean after the end of the season. Unfortunately I wrote this during a really stressful week so it has more angst than I intended. Sorry about that.

Dean had always known he was broken.  Ever since he was four years old, he had known he was the brother expected to do the saving - not the one worth being saved.  Then he’d gone to Hell and become a monster worthy of hunting.  Sure, Cas had pulled him out, but he was following orders.  The angels only thought Dean had value because they needed the Michael Sword - proving what he’d told Sam at the beginning of the trials, Dean was just a grunt.  A body to be directed to accomplish a task.  His mind, his thoughts - none of those had real value.

The night the angels fell, Dean found he could still break more - until he was crushed to dust under the heel of Fate.  He felt like a boat with no mooring, cast adrift in a sea of lies.  Why had Metatron deceived Cas?  What had Cas done?  Why wasn’t he answering Dean’s prayers?  He had promised Dean he was back this time.  That they would solve the problems facing them together.

When his thoughts turned from Cas, they inevitably fell to Sam.  Dean felt violently ill when he thought of how close he had come to losing Sammy yet again.  And to know that Sammy had been willing to do it because he thought he had let Dean down.  It was like a physical punch to the gut.  When had he become his father, punishing those that cared about him the most and making them believe they hadn’t done enough to earn his trust, respect and love in return?

He felt like a foolish villain in an endless chapter.  On every page, it was the same story; Dean undeserving.  

Though he was better at hiding it than Sammy had been, Dean still saw Hell every time he closed his eyes.  He saw Alistair and every horror of the torture chamber running behind his eyes like a film on a constant loop.  

In Purgatory, Hell had become background noise in the constant need to stay in the moment in order to survive.  It was a simple shadow he and Cas had fought together.  The angel watching over Dean on the nights he couldn’t prevent succombing to the mind numbing horrors he found it difficult to pull himself away from.  

Since returning from Purgatory, Dean felt like he had been hit from all sides with shit he didn’t know how to handle individually - much less juggle all together.  Sammy hadn’t bothered to look for him and found the life he wanted.  Dean had pulled him away from that yet again.  Dean spent weeks hating himself for failing Cas and leaving him behind only to learn Cas had chosen to stay with the monsters he didn’t know rather than escape with the one he did.  Then Dean had to watch as Sammy continued to deteriorate in front of him because, even as a grunt, he was too weak to properly complete the trials.  Meanwhile, Cas spent a year under angelic mind control, only to break free and decide Dean was too untrustworthy to help him with the mission he'd set for himself.  

Dean had barely made it to Sam on time.  His heart still faltered when he realized Sam genuinely didn’t care that he would die.  Dean wasn’t sure how he got Sammy, weak, wounded and gasping for air, into the Impala while angels fell around them.  he watched Sam flinch in agony every time a body hit the ground, as though the trials to close Hell had purified him enough to link him to the falling Host.

Dean tried not to think that any of those flinches might represent Cas.  That the reason Cas wasn’t answering Dean was because he _couldn’t._  

Through a not-so-minor miracle, Dean managed to get them both back to the bunker.  By the time they arrived, Sam was unconscious.  Dean was forced to practically drag him to the door of the bunker before pounding a fist against it to get Kevin to let them in.  

The young man answered the door with panic clear on his face.  “Shit! Dean?! What’s going on?  About an hour ago, all these alarms started going off.  The maps and control boards started to light up like Christmas trees.”

“In a minute, Kev.  Think you could give me a hand here?”

Between the two of them, they managed to wrangle Sam into his room and into bed.  Dean was relieved to see some of the sweat and pallor that had become characteristic to Sam over the past few months had started to ease.  

Resisting the urge for a drink, Dean followed Kevin into the war room to debrief him on what was going on in the world outside.  He cringed when Kevin asked the question Dean had tried to force his mind to avoid thinking about but failed when he found he couldn’t stop it from screaming through his head anyway.

“What about Castiel?”

Something in Dean’s face must have changed when the question was finally spoken out loud, because even though he didn’t respond, Kevin suddenly leaned forward in concern.

“Hey, Dean, are you alright?”

Dean honestly didn’t know.  He felt the weight of the past year - hell, the weight of the past thirty-four years pressing in on him, tunneling his vision to two single points - Sam and Cas.

“Maybe you should go to bed,” Kevin suggested, his voice laced with concern.  Dean just nodded and shuffled towards his room, walking as though slightly drunk, despite his resistance to this earlier urge.  

When he reached his room, he fell onto his bed without bothering to change his clothes or get under the covers.  Sleep claimed him immediately and with more force than usual.  As soon as his eyes closed, Dean once again heard the screams of the pit.  He wondered if this time he would have the strength to shake them off.  

 

* * *

 

Dean slept for a solid fourteen hours, but when he woke, he felt as though he hadn’t slept at all.  The images of Hell and demons and of everyone he cared about lying dead before him, or standing together with judgemental stares continued to haunt him.  He managed to determine Sam was also awake and seemed to be improving, though he was still weak.  Beyond that, he seemed capable of little more than wandering through the bunker from room to room as though he was looking for something.  At first, he spoke a little to Sam and Kevin, but as the days progressed, Dean seemed to withdraw deeper into himself.  Kevin watched in concern as Dean became little more than a ghost.  By the fourth day, Dean was no longer eating with them and Kevin wasn’t completely sure he was eating at all.  

It didn’t make sense to him, because Sam was improving slowly each day.  Why was Dean breaking down _now_?  Sam, however, watched Dean carefully, his own heart hurting with the knowledge that once again there was too little he could do to help his brother.  

He knew Dean was doing some kind of research, though he wasn’t doing it in the library.  Books kept disappearing off the shelves into the bowels of the bunker.  Sam was willing to bet his best conditioner that Dean was reading up on angels.  He knew though, there was no precedent for what had happened and they were unlikely to find a solution in a book in the library.

 

* * *

 

A week after their return to the bunker, Sam and Kevin were talking in quiet tones in the common room about the final task and about Dean.  Neither of them had seen Dean since early the day before and were debating whether they should go look for him when a loud banging sounded against the front door.  

Both men exchanged mixed looks of alarm and surprise before getting up and moving together towards the door.  Sam pulled the demon knife, wishing he wasn’t still so weak.  He took a stance and nodded to Kevin who stood behind the door as he opened it wide for Sam.  

“Shit!” Sam dropped the knife and reached forward just in time to catch Cas as he toppled into the doorway.  

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said as his head fell forward, carried by its own weight.  

Sam grabbed Cas’s arm and pulled it over his shoulder as he dragged the angel upright.  After shutting the door, Kevin followed the two to the kitchen where Sam deposited Cas into a chair before kneeling in front of him to check for injuries.  

Cas looked at Kevin while Sam did this.  “Water, please?  And perhaps a sandwich?” He directed his gaze to Sam.  “I had no money and it has been several days since I have eaten.”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “Eaten?  So - so then, you fell?”

Cas’s eyes took on a grief-stricken look.  “All the angels have fallen.  Yet again, my efforts to help have only cause more harm.” His face hardened and even as a human, it was enough to make Sam hesitate and be grateful the look was not directed at him.  “Metatron will pay, I assure you.”

When Kevin returned with the sandwich and water, Cas immediately took both, downing the water in under five seconds.  Kevin raised his eyebrows in surprise and returned to the kitchen with the glass to refill it.  After he had left, Cas looked around expectantly, his expression at once eager and cautious.  

“Where’s Dean?”

Cas watched as Sam’s face closed off.  “What’s wrong?” He stopped. Fear flashed across his face and he leaned forward in the chair grasping Sam’s shoulder in a grip that defied his diminished state.  “Sam, where is Dean?”

“Woah, woah, calm down, man.  Dean is here.  He’s not hurt.”

Cas eased his grip, but didn’t relax.  There was still something Sam wasn’t telling him.  “I take it then he doesn’t wish to see me?”

Sam choked out a sound that could only be described as a laugh, but it was full of pain and worry.  “I seriously doubt that’s true, Cas.  Dean is here, but he’s, I dunno - lost?” Sam thought that word pretty much summed up everything about Dean physically and mentally at the moment.

“He’s somewhere here in the bunker, but Kevin and I haven’t seen him since yesterday.” Sam hesitated, trying to decide how to explain Dean’s current state of mind.  “He’s...broken I think.  This past year was hell for him.  He was forced to watch us suffer and couldn’t do anything to help - not in a way he considers helping at least.  And when the angels fell...Well we weren’t sure what happened to you.”

Cas nodded, his face tight.  “I will go find him.”

“Hey, Cas, hang on!  You’re barely standing.  You need to rest and you need to eat.  Besides, you weren’t here that long before.  You won’t be able to find your way around.  I’m not sure I could completely find my way around yet.  We’re still finding new rooms, even new corridors.”  

Cas frowned.  “Sam, Dean needs me.  He’s told me as much before when I could do nothing to reciprocate, when I was unworthy of that need.  I don’t know what I can do now, but I must try.”  He paused before standing.  “I will take the sandwich with me.

 

* * *

 

Cas tried to remember what he had learned about the bunker when the brothers had brought him here previously.  He had explored a great deal in the evenings when Sam and Dean were sleeping.  There were several places he couldn’t go before - areas warded against angels.  Now though, this wasn't a hindrance.  

Cas’s chest was filled with a sense of foreboding and unease as he looked for Dean.  He was afraid to call out and prompt the hunter to retreat further away.  Finally, he turned down a hallway beyond the dungeons and saw a light spreading out from under a closed door.  

Gently, Cas eased the door open, barely resisting the urge to cry out his friend’s name and run to his side as he took in the sight before him.  

Dean was standing on the far side of the room, turned slightly away from the door staring at the wall.  He was unshaven and the three or four days of facial hair highlighted the sunken cheeks and bruised eyes in his handsome face.  The lack of food and sleep coupled with the abundance of stress had caused Dean to lose weight and his clothes hung from his form.  

He looked up at the motion of the door opening and froze at the sight of the angel.  

“Cas?” Dean whispered, just before his knees buckled under him.  

This time, Cas did rush forward.  “Dean!” he cried, catching Dean just before he hit the ground, wrapping his arm around Dean's waist, while draping one of Dean's arms around his neck and leading him to a couch along the far wall.  He staggered a little under the hunter’s weight as he gauged his human strength.  

“Dean, look at me.  Are you alright?”

“Not real,” Dean mumbled, his voice thick with sadness.  “Cas, you’re not real.”  Dean refused to meet his eyes as he spoke.

Cas felt his chest twist as he saw tears track down Dean's face, silently.  “Dean, I promise you, I’m real.  Why do you think this isn’t real?”

“Punishment.  I couldn’t save you.  Almost lost Sam again.”

“Dean, I’m here.  Who’s punishing you?” Cas urged, terrified of the blank, glazed look Dean was giving him as the hunter finally turned toward him.

“Alistair.”

Cas sucked in a breath at the name.  Was Dean having a flashback?  Had he had them before?  Cas had thought Dean moved past his memories of Hell in the wake of everything else they had faced since.  Had those events just made the memories worse?  Had he merely continued to deal with it alone?  Of course he had and Cas cursed himself for not realizing it before.  There had always been something else so _pressing_  preventing him from seeing what should have been obvious.  

He pulled Dean into his arms on the couch and held him tightly to his chest.  “Dean, I’m here.  This is real.  Sam is fine.  He’s upstairs worried about you.”

Dean just shook his head against Cas’s chest.  “Doesn’t matter.  You’ll just go away.  You always do.”

Cas winced, knowing it was true but hating the reality of it.  He had never _wanted_ to leave.  

“Dean, I am _here_.  And I swear to you, this time, I will not walk away.”

“That’s what you say whenever Alistair uses you,” Dean said, shrugging as though to dismiss an illusion before it could disappoint again.

Cas held on tight.  Instinctively, he knew if he let go, Dean would see it as a confirmation that Cas would leave again.  Dean’s stubborn nature had been the source of many fights.  Despite that, it was one of the things Cas admired the most about his friend.  Now, he feared it was that very nature that might keep Cas from reaching the wounded man in his arms.  Somehow, he would have to tear down the walls of will Dean had surrounded himself with.  

So many times Dean had helped him and given him shelter - no matter how angry he was or how little Cas deserved his forgiveness.  Dean’s whole life had been devoted to sacrificing for Sam.  Cas thought back to what Sam had said about Dean and the past year.  How hard was it for a man who defined himself by how well he protected those he loved to stand by unable to step in and shoulder the burden as the ones closest to him suffered?

As the hunter relaxed into the arms that refused to yield, he began to shake. To Cas, Dean’s pain was almost an audible thing and he yearned to cry out above the burning sound.  

Dean, in his rough and wounded manner, was always prepared to care for others.  No matter how badly they had hurt him.  When the Winchesters had first brought him here, before he had been deceived by Metatron, and when Dean was so angry with Cas, he would barely look at him, Dean had still ordered him to stay put and, “get better.”

Now Cas would return the favor and help Dean anyway he could.  

“Dean, you are not in Hell.  Alistair cannot have you because I saved you.  Remember?  I raised you from Perdition.  How could he torment you with an image of me if you did not know me before I took you from him?”

“Maybe I never got out.  Maybe you were a trick to make me hope.  Alastair always liked doing that.   _Likes_ doing that.”

Cas caught the change in tense and took it as a sign that he was starting to get through.  Making sure to keep one arm firmly around Dean’s shoulders, he moved one hand and placed it against Dean’s chest.  “You are not dead and in Hell Dean.  You are hurt, and wounded, but I am fallen and I need to learn, I need you to show me how bleeding hearts still pound.  If we stand together Dean, we will be unbroken.”

Dean twisted in Cas’s arms, not trying to pull away, but in an effort to meet his gaze.  “Will you stay with me, Cas?”

It was the first time Dean had directly asked him to stay, making it a request rather than an order or a statement.  It was the first time Cas understood Dean was asking _him_ to stay, not his abilities.  “I will not walk away, Dean.” If he had to repeat the sentiment as a refrain, he would do so until Dean believed him.  

They carried forward into the night and Cas refused to let Dean out of the circle of his arms.  Often, he whispered nonsense into Dean’s ear to keep Dean grounded in the present.  He used the strength of innocence, invoking thoughts of children’s laughter - something Hell could never recreate - to chase away the shadows.

As the night wore on, Dean started to become more lucid and he asked Cas about the angels.  

“I believe Metatron’s actions may have had unintentional consequences.  Just before Naomi died, she came to me repentant.” Dean nodded, remembering the conversation.  It was the same one in which she had warned Dean Sammy would die if he followed through on the third trial.

Cas continued, “She spoke of how the angels had lost their way.  Had forgotten that their mission was to _protect_ God’s creation.  Now that they have all been cast from heaven together and equally, my brothers and sisters might finally understand our little army standing for what is right.  I hope they will unite and take back Heaven and our holy mission.”  
Cas felt Dean curling in on himself at Cas’s response, though he was unsure why.  He twisted his head in an attempt to catch Dean’s eye, but the attempt was made more difficult since Cas still refused to loosen the grip on his arms.

“Dean, what is it?”

“The angels will need a leader to take back heaven.”

And Cas understood.  “Perhaps, but it will not be me.  I have already learned power does not suit me.  What is the human quote?  ‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely.’ Even if the Host returns to Heaven, I will choose to stay here as a human.”

Dean drew in his breath sharply and instantly shuttered the flash of hope behind his eyes.  “Why?” he whispered, his voice too choked with emotion to speak louder.

Cas furrowed his brow as he tried to find a way to explain his choice to Dean.  “The angels lost Heaven because they lost sight of what mattered.  In the absence of our Father, they bickered and fought for control and forgot their purpose.  I have always loved my Father’s creations, Dean, even if I have not always made the wisest decisions on how to protect them.  I did not fall because I lost sight of that.”  

Cas pulled Dean around to face him, to make sure Dean understood the sincerity of his next words.  “Since meeting you, Dean, my focus has narrowed from all God’s creations to a few - and one in particular.  Humans can fall too, you know.  They can fall into temptation or,” Cas’s voice softened and he touched his forehead to Dean’s, “they can fall into despair.  We can fall like angels if we lose what matters.  For me Dean, _you_ matter and I will not lose you.   _I will not walk away_.”

Dean ducked his head and Cas was sure he felt the heat of tears against his neck.

“I am here with you Dean.  You are the most important person in my world - in all of my existence.  I would like nothing more than to stay with you the rest of my life, if of course you are willing to take on a broken angel.”

Dean finally turned his face back up to Cas.  The difference was remarkable.  The shadows were gone and the light in his eyes was brighter than Cas had ever known it to be - as though they had never seen Hell.  Dean’s smile could have lit a thousand suns.  

He leaned forward into the former angel’s embrace and firmly planted his lips against Cas’s like a man in the desert seeking water.  Cas couldn’t prevent the sound of surprise and longing that echoed forward from the back of his throat as his hands finally moved so they could reach up to cup Dean’s face.  

The need for air eventually forced them apart.  As they leaned together, Dean repeated Cas’s words from earlier in the evening.  “If we stand together, we will be unbroken.”  

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics to Unbroken (from: http://www.elyrics.net):
> 
> Now you're adrift in the sea of lies  
> A foolish villain in an endless chapter  
> The demons running behind your eyes  
> A simple shadow  
> We can fight together
> 
> I'll never walk away  
> Tear down! the walls that will surround  
> Cry out! above the burning sound  
> Show me! how bleeding hearts still pound  
> If we stand together, we will be unbroken!
> 
> We carry forward into the night  
> The strength of innocence like children's laughter  
> An army standing for what is right  
> We'll fall like angels if we lose what matters
> 
> I will not walk away  
> Tear down! the walls that will surround  
> Cry out! above the burning sound  
> Show me! how bleeding hearts still pound  
> If we stand together, we will be unbroken!
> 
> (Woah Woahh.)
> 
> We will not walk away  
> Tear down! the walls that will surround  
> Cry out! above the burning sound  
> Show me! how bleeding hearts still pound  
> If we stand together, we will be unbroken!
> 
> Tear down! the walls that will surround  
> Cry out! above the burning sound  
> Show me! how bleeding hearts still pound  
> If we stand together, we will be unbroken!


End file.
